Since this hop is called, THE DUNGEON CRAWL, here some dungeon delight for your reading pleasure.

Vivien, our heroine, has her arms lifted above her in chains, and a spreader bar lies between her ankles.

It began with a sole finger whispering down her spine, pressing gently as it moved over the thin leather to circle each of her seat cheeks, and traveling down the inside of her right thigh, it ignored the silent craving cry of her cunt. The fingertip continued its journey up to her stomach, pausing for a moment before ascending her torso to visit her right breast, where it suddenly, unexpectedly, sharply pinched a nipple, eliciting a sharp cry of pained surprise.

“Two rules, are you paying attention?” he asked, fondling the pulsing rosebud.

“Yes, Sir,” she panted.

“When I ask you a question, you reply immediately, and if I tell you to do something, you do it right away. Tell me what I just said.”

“I answer immediately, and do whatever you say,” she murmured.

“Good girl,” he whispered, continuing to caress the one breast.

Holding it between both his hands, he lowered his lips, sucking gently, and nestled his thigh against her sex.

“Oooh, Dominic, that’s amazing,” she moaned, but he didn’t respond, just persisted in his adoring attention to her fleshy mound.

His mouth was relentless, his tongue rolling her nipple, his teeth lightly nibbling, his fingers fondling and gently squeezing, all the while his knee gently rubbed. When her staccato utterances of joy became an uninterrupted moan, he lifted his head, kissed her clavicle, dropped his knee away, and returned his lips to her ear.

“You liked that, yes?” he breathed.

“Yes,” she whimpered.

“And when I touch down here,” he murmured, his fingers exploring between her swollen pussy lips, “oh, so soaking.”

She gasped and wriggled as much as her binds would allow, until his fingers moved to her other, neglected nipple.

“Should I give this sweet breast the same attention?”

“Yes, Sir, please,” she panted.

“It began with a hard pinch, did it not?” he reminded her.

“Yes, Sir, it did,” she groaned.

“So this is how it works, to have the pleasure, first you must earn it with the pain. I will ask you again, should I give this sweet breast the same attention?”

“Ooooh, Sir,” she moaned.

There was a slight pause before his hand fell hard on her backside with three zinging smacks on each cheek. She cried out her displeasure and tried to move her feet, but the spreader bar made it impossible.

“Why did I punish you?” he asked sternly.

“B-because I, uh, I didn’t answer,” she stammered.

“Oui, because you didn’t answer. Now you learn, you do as I say or you will be punished. Next time it will be more smacks. So, now, what is your answer, should I give your other sweet breast the same attention?”

“Oooh, yes, please, Sir,” she groaned.

His fingers held her nipple, waiting, allowing her anticipation to build, and she grit her teeth, preparing for the sharp pain. He tweaked, she cried out, but immediately his warm comforting mouth fell in place of his fingers, his hands began their sensual play, his knee returned between her legs, and losing herself in the joyous decadence, she moaned happily, leaning her head against her arm.

Vivien was falling into a euphoric trance, his arduous mouth and warm massaging hands sending her further into her blissful state. When he slowly withdrew to settle in the chair, she sighed, sinking into the warm sting of her backside, and the sparkling of her breasts.

Reaching under the chair, Dominic retrieved his long, thin dressage whip. There was a small jar on the table next to him, and unscrewing the lid he dipped his finger, then slid it across the last few inches of the thin rod, including its feathered tail.
Lifting it in the air, he tapped it softly against her breasts, eliciting a sharp gasp and jerk of her body. He knew it was a delightful tickle, and he circled her nipples, giving them each a sharper tap, ensuring a light coating of the spicy oil, before carrying it down to slither against her sex, burrowing it into her slit.

Watching her cunt lips close around it, with easy skill he moved the oiled end back and forth. Lifting his gaze he relished the rice and fall of her chest, knowing she was living in the moment, buried in the scintillating sensations that were flooding her senses. Sending the stick into a tantalizing seesaw rhythm, he picked up the crystal flute and sipped the champagne.

This is heaven, this moment. Your first time before me locked in chains and spread by the bar, your glorious body heaving with its need, your cunt so wet and so wanting my cock…yes, this is heaven.

Though he could feel his own need pressing against the confines of his slacks, he savored the moment, drawing it out, allowing the spicy oil and teasing stick to ride her forward.

Her moans grew, and her rapid breathing transformed into an intense panting; her time with his thin crop had reached its peak. Relishing the sound of her sighs and moans, he slowly slid the crop from her sex and laid it against the chair, then standing up, he quickly removed his clothes.